Live like it's your last day,
They say
Give it your all,
They say

Take your time,
They say
Don't rush into things,
They say

Relax,
They say
You're still young,
They say

Happy birthday,
They say
Go **** yourself,
They say

Be happy, no negative vibes here,
They say
You're worthless, I didnt need you anyway,
They say

Live love laugh,
They say
No trust,
They say

I hate hypocrites,
They say
You're the main one,
I say

The sun sets
And the moon appears on everything I should've been.
My brain is like an hamster running on one of those wheels
Running...thinking...running

Once you stop thinking
Once the slate is blank
Perhaps you'll be happier
Or perhaps it'll be just the same

You asked to disappear
But you should've asked to stay
You wanted to paint a picture
But you should've tossed the metal brushes away

You needed to flush away your mistakes
But you should've just said no
Or perhaps maybe you shouldn't have downed your mistakes in the first place
The world might never know

You should've controlled your rage
You're a fiery one but that's not what they want at all
You shouldn't have given your self away
You're corrupted unholy and just sick

You should've went to college
Should've got a job
But instead you're just wasting away
Thinking about yesterday

I often wonder how much of human behavior is determined by the society in which someone is raised.

On one hand nostalgia has provided such a warm comfort within the constraints of my culture,
but on the other hand I've always been steadfast against nationalism.

Your society can, and often will, keep you in the dark, america (modern society in general) is a model example of such.

Most people would be content watching television with a fast food dinner of hotdogs or chicken nuggets their whole life,
but try to feed them the feet, brains, intestines, even bugs ground up and processed to produce such national treasures,
and they'd be running the other way, calling for a health inspector who would find nothing out of the ordinary.

It brings into question the very foundations of our reasoning.
What is right, what is wrong, what are we supposed to want out of life?

From eating, to learning, to working, to mating, nothing is set in stone.

If we're going off of what is purely human, the only truths are eat, sleep, ****, and ****.
Sometimes we can't even manage all of these.

These thoughts are filtering through my head now because for sometime I've been seeking a lifestyle "off grid",
and I've had to break down the way of thinking I've been taught is right, crazy has become sanity.

Birth
School
More School
Career
Single long term monogamous relationship
Retirement (if lucky)
Death
"Afterlife"

Now birth and death I can get behind, but as for the rest of it, I'm just not sure.

Agriculture, industrial revolution, private property
all for the advancement of our species, right?

But is this where we're supposed to be, what, who?

What about egalitarianism, what about I am he, as you are he, as you are me, and we are all together?
Hunting, gathering, sharing what you have, trading for what you need, one for all and all for one.

What's mine is yours because we are both stuck on this planet, in this time, in this life, and we all deserve to live.
My food, my home, my mate, my heart, my mind, what little we each have to offer,
why would you hoard? To live is to love, am I wrong?

I don't know.
But I'm working on it

Push harder!
Do better!
Study more!
You're supposed to be smart!
I'm trying...

You're so dumb!
This is simple!
You'll never understand!
Why are you even here?
I don't know...

Work harder!
Put some effort forth!
Why can't you do this?
I thought you were trying!
I just can't anymore...

You're gonna fail!
You'll never make it!
Why don't you just leave?
You're too stupid for this!
I know...

No one likes you just leave!!!!
*Fine

How can she
Face Everything And React,
when everyday she's being told to
Forget Everything And Run,
Ever since they sold her the idea of perfection, she carries on her shoulders, the weight of the sun.
She needs to escape the magazines and the television,
She wants answers but the truth is hidden, I wish she could see what I see when I look at her.
Such an incredible vision.

we present ourselves as perfect manuscripts
nobody sees the crumpled rough drafts and messy handwriting
scattered around the bedroom carpet at home.

nobody has seen the way i've
scratched out parts of myself
that didn't fit into the high school mold
then the parts that didn't fit into my suitcase when i moved away from home

nobody has seen the revisions i've made
do i sound too formal, am i too quiet, do i need to be a little bit funnier in order to be considered acceptable art?

i've thrown entire scenes of my life into the trash
because i don't want anybody to see them and i am ashamed

i sit for hours staring at blank pages wondering how anyone could ever find me interesting enough to spend time with

do you ever feel that way, too?